


Welcome To The Show

by ScrapperInBlack (Cell0113)



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Body Horror, Emetophobia, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, POV Second Person, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 07:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cell0113/pseuds/ScrapperInBlack
Summary: You find an odd broach that inspires a slightly odd costume. All would be well, but the Veil draws thin on the night of All Hallow's Eve, and powers not of this world can reach through the thinnest places. Powers that like to... Change things.Inspired by a similar fic by Valiax.





	Welcome To The Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valiax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valiax/gifts).

> Hey, so, this is NOWHERE NEAR as graphic as my last costume transformation story, but it's still not exactly easy on the psyche. There's a brief bit of the Reader character throwing up and there's a paralysis scare as well as some implied mental manipulation.  
Plus, being as this is entirely in second person, tenses are weird. If you find anything that doesn't seem to make sense, please give me a heads up so I can fix it.
> 
> That being said, enjoy!  
And Happy Halloween!

They scampered up the narrow walk, tiny feet pattering across the stonework. Scarlet lanterns provided the only light in the gloom, flickering gently in the dimness as it guided them on-wards, like moths to a flame. They hesitated briefly as their path abruptly widened, opening into a wide space ringed with lanterns and tiny crimson lights. Soft music could be heard, the lonely tune of a single accordion nearly lost to the whisper of the passing breeze and the rustle of leaves, but it persisted, and so did they, taking cautious steps until they were standing abreast before the yawning dark of a previously hidden entrance. They whispered between themselves a moment, wary but curious all the same, until one took a deep breath and stepped forward.

A delicate chime rang out in the darkness, and at first, seemed to have done nothing.

But then there was a low creak, aged hinges doing their best, and a tall, slender figure appeared, rimmed in scarlet light. A moment of silence, then a small voice piped up.

"T-Trick or Treat!"

A plastic bucket in the shape of a pumpkin was abruptly shoved forward, held tight in two tiny hands mostly hidden in satiny gloves made to mimic the fantastical style of a cartoon princess. Behind the little princess, a make shift mummy wrapped in gauze and a cardboard robot lifted a cloth shopping bag and a pillow case respectively, echoing their seemingly fearless leader.

You couldn't help but laugh, purposefully forcing your voice to a lower register so you sounded suitably regal as you stepped over the threshold of your door, the ragged cloak of your costume dragging a little behind you. It was a bit hard on your throat, but the raspy after effect was perfect for your character, so you made yourself ignore the ache as you leaned forward in a half bow before speaking.

"Ahh, what have we here? Such wondrous little creatures visit my humble stoop, what might you be?"

The mummy's eyes widened behind the gauze mostly hiding their face, and you only just held back a snorting laugh. It was so much fun to get into character with the little kids reactions!

"I'm Cind'ella! Oo're you? I like your hair, it looks like horns!"

"Why thank you, my dear Cinderella, you are most kind..."

You continued with the act as the little princess introduced her stunned companions, internally preening at the praise. This year, you had put quite a lot of work into your costume and the decorations that turned your front stoop and walkway into a Gothic sort of carnival, black swaths of cloth draped over archways of bent piping with papermache lanterns and fairy lights setting the scene. It was not giant blow up pumpkin-zombie, and it wasn't a yard full of foam gravestones, but you thought it looked awesome and the kids all seemed to think it was pretty cool as well. So what if your neighbors had been giving you dirty looks for the past week, it wasn't your fault they couldn't keep up with the awesomeness of your Halloween mojo.

The little princess chattered away, unfazed by the creepy vibe of your Halloween set up, and you finally got to the fun part of 'magically' summoning a bowl of candy from under your cloak with a little 'help' from the adorable trick-or-treater. You made sure every child got to have their pick before tucking the bowl away and shooing the children back to their waiting guardians, playing up the whole ringmaster style gig as you bid them farewell with a flourish of your cloak that showed of the silken red lining and made the little princess giggle. As you stepped back to prep for the next round of trick-or-treaters, you idly straightened your cravat, then the broach that had given you the idea for the whole costume to begin with.

It wasn't really a broach when you found it at the second hand store, rather a tad over-sized pendant on a tarnished chain that you couldn't help taking a shine to when you saw it sitting broken next to a couple other necklaces by the register. Roughly tear drop shaped and about the size of one of those old silver fifty cent pieces, the red enamel surrounding a bit of silver that could be either like a face or a cross depending on how you looked at it had caught your eye and you had bought it entirely on a whim. Only two dollars, and it was just... Neat.

You'd just sort of carried around for a day, wondering what to do with it, when you'd got the bright idea to turn it into a broach with some leftovers from another costume you'd made for a friend. Things had snow balled from there, and you couldn't help but love the results.

The slightly ragged looking high collared cloak hung around the knees of your slim black trousers and the riding boots you had redyed and polished to a mirror sheen, and underneath was a white poet shirt from an old pirate costume dressed up with a bright red double breasted vest with a bit of a tailcoat. Add in the fluffy cravat, the broach pinned front and center at the base of your throat, and a wig you'd styled mostly just to see if you could, and the result was some kind of Gothic vampire ringmaster that you couldn't help but love. Really, it was the kind of iconic Look that you had always wanted to pull off but never really found your niche for it. At least, not until now.

Humming idly along with the recording of accordion music you'd found online, some background track from an indie game you'd never heard of, you stepped up to the mirror you'd hung on the wall next to the door, just for tonight so you didn't have to go too far to make sure your costume was still in good shape. The cloak was cool to be sure, but you'd had to put it together in a bit of a rush, and you wanted to know the instant any of the seams started to pull apart. Tacking everything together on the sewing machine had saved time, but you couldn't help worrying.

Thankfully, everything seemed to be in good condition, and you gave a little twirl, watching the cloak flare out and the tails of your vest flutter. Really, the whole outfit just looked amazing, it was incredible that you'd managed to squeeze in the time to get it all together in just a week-!

Red glimmered, and you nearly tripped over your own feet as you whirled, looking to see where the light had come from.

"Stupid lanterns..."

You coughed, making a face to yourself at how rough your voice sounded from talking in such a low register for most of the night, and moved to pick up the papermache lantern that you apparently managed to knock over with your twirling, sitting it up again and straightening the electric tea light inside. There, all fixed up and ready for the next group.

Speaking of the next group, you perked up at hearing the soft jingling that notified you that someone had passed the little motion sensor set up at the mouth of the cloth tunnel you'd made, and you checked out the window, smiling to see another bunch of little trick-or-treaters making their way towards the door.

Ahh, another performance to be given.

You stretched, giving a soft groan of appreciation at feeling your back give a couple really good pops, and chuckled a little to yourself as you stepped up to the door, waiting for the chime of the doorbell that was your cue.

Faintly, you heard the accordion music shift in tone, and you wondered if maybe you should reset the playlist. Had you set a playlist...?

The patter of little feet on wood drew your attention away from your wayward thoughts, a thrill of anticipation burning up your spine at hearing the quiet voices bickering among themselves. Almost every group did this, it never failed to make you smile. Though, maybe you ought to start thinking about winding down for the night, you could feel a bit of a headache coming on. The wig was a bit heavy, after all, you'd been expecting some discomfort as the night went on, and it had been a few hours already...

The chime rang, and you grinned to yourself, missing the too sharp bite of fangs brushing your bottom lip.

"Showtime."

Red flickered at the edges of your vision, and you felt a fresh thrill of excitement as you let the door creak open, allowing it to reveal your cloaked and looming form, not really paying any attention to the music that continued to shuffle in the background.

"TRICK OR TREAT!"

You felt the scarlet light swell around you, heat building in your breast as you glided over the threshold, and you saw the children's eyes going wide as they looked up at you, and you couldn't help but smile as you bent forward in a deep bow that brought you face to face with the little trick-or-treaters that had come to your door.

"Well met, little travelers, well met. How might this humble troupe master attend you this most beautiful night?"

The rasp was far more pronounced than you remembered, but your throat didn't hurt like it had before, so you dismissed it as an unimportant development. After all, that deep rasp was brilliant for the performance, and the children were eating it up, eyes wide and mouths agape. So precious.

The littlest child, a tiny vampire in an equally tiny black cloak, managed to speak up first, lisping around a mouthful of plastic fangs.

"Wha's a t'oup masser?"

You allowed yourself a chuckle, lowering yourself into a crouch that had your cloak fluttering around you, brushing the rough wood of the porch and hiding the candy bowl as practiced.

"Troupe master, little one. As for what a troupe master is, well. Have you ever been to the circus?"

The tiny vampire shook their head, dark curls bobbing, and you hummed with theatrical thoughtfulness, tapping one finger on your chin before speaking once more.

"Have you ever seen a movie with a circus in it?"

This time, a nod, and you smiled, feeling the stretch of it tug at your cheeks.

"Was there a person who introduced the acts? Stood in the ring and spoke to the crowd?"

"Uh huh!"

A flourish of your cape, and you stood in a whirl of fabric and flickering light before bowing once again, your fingers tingling with a nervous sort of energy.

"I am the troupe master, and the troupe master is me."

"Wooooow... How y'do that?"

Instinctively, you knew the child was not referring to your cape, and that heat coiled tight in your chest flared bright as you lifted a hand, idly noting the slick blackness that had not coated your fingers earlier in the night.

"Magic."

A snap, and scarlet light burst to life, a globe of flickering flame at your finger tips, and the children ooh'd at the spectacle. You flexed your fingers, and there were suddenly many globes of flame dancing around you. Part of you was jibbering in panic, terrified at this sudden display of power you had never before experienced, but it was dull, lost in a haze of glee and accomplishment as you continued your performance to the benefit of the costumed children. At the end of the walk, you could see the parents starting to get antsy, and reluctantly allowed the flames to flicker out, dissipating in a spray of sparks like miniature fireworks, and you used the smoke and a little slight of hand to have the bowl of candy 'appear' in your hands, offering it to the children to have their pick. It was a matter of moments before you were sending the little ones on their way, and you slipped back inside as quickly as you could manage without seeming suspicious.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you felt your knees tremble as you looked down at your hands that now shook with barely contained panic. You had wanted to wear gloves, something about the costume had felt unfinished without something covering your hands, but none of the gloves you owned had matched the aesthetic you were going for, and for all your skills, gloves were still not something you were very good at making. But now, you had no need for gloves, your hands completely covered in a glossy black material that caught the low light in an almost metallic manner.

Each finger tip ended in a delicate curve some little voice in your mind called a talon, each joint a section of soft matte black the only interruption of the glossy surface. It felt hard to the touch, your new talons contacting with a faint sound that reminded you a little of ceramic mugs clinking together, and in a sudden blossom of anxiety, you reached both hands up to your face, vaguely remembering how something had felt odd when you smiled for the children. The surface of your palms felt warm, almost hot against the skin of your cheeks, and for a moment, you couldn't detect anything different.

Scarlet light flickered out of the corner of your eyes, and you looked without thinking.

Your eyes were red.

Not like bloodshot, but like RED. Iris, sclera, pupil, no trace of your original color, standing out in your too-pale face like something out of a horror movie. And they weren't JUST red, no, they were GLOWING. Faintly, true, but there was enough of a glow that it was casting faint rim light on the sides of your nose and on the tops of your cheeks as well as giving a red sheen to your glossy fingers. The black eyeliner you had put on earlier looked sharper, more defined, but there was also an odd black line that reached from the edge of your hairline down to the bottom of your jaw, neatly bisecting each eye like a cross.

And your TEETH-!

You could just barely make it out between your fingers, but you could feel how your teeth were longer, sharper, your canines wicked fangs that drew blood from your tongue at the slightest touch. The pain came as almost an after thought, and you hissed as you dropped your hands from your face, the sound lower and rougher than anything that should have come from your vocal chords. You stepped closer to the mirror, thinking to get a better look, but you didn't really get the chance because suddenly you couldn't feel your legs. You wobbled briefly before collapsing to your knees, only just managing to keep from face planting on the floor by catching yourself on your hands, and you hissed again at the sharp CLACK sound of your hard palms hitting the wood floor. It didn't hurt, but the sound was more than a little unnerving.

Course, that was a minor thing compared to the fact that you COULD NOT FEEL YOUR LEGS.

Your heart was pounding, pulse loud in your ears as you pushed yourself up from the floor as best you could, talons scoring thin lines in the floorboards as your fingers tensed with the effort. Faintly, you registered the sound of your own rasping breath as you looked down the length of your body, mostly hidden under the loose folds of your cloak. You tried to move something, anything from the waist down, but there was nary a twitch. Panic threaded through you, and you realized that whatever was going on, you needed help and FAST.

Phone. Where did you put your phone?!

There weren't any pockets in the slim trousers, nor in the trim waistcoat, and you were at home, what would you need the thing on hand for anyway? You cursed your past self's naivete as you cast about the dimly lit room, trying to remember through the dizzying haze of fear. Desk, maybe? It was the closest option anyway, you could drag yourself there without too much effort. Hopefully.

Hissing curses under your breath in a voice that was growing raspier and deeper the more you spoke, you ignored the deep gouges your talons dug into the flooring as you dragged yourself towards the desk. It was harder than you had anticipated, hauling your own dead weight the 6 or so feet needed, and your arms trembled with the effort, your elbows aching from the strain and your chest feeling tight as you panted for breath. All you had to do now was claw your way up into the chair, and you could check the damned desk for your phone-

Something popped, and you felt your eyes fly wide with shock as all the strength simply left your remaining limbs, leaving you to collapse on your face in a limp heap.

You felt no pain, but somehow, that was all the more terrifying. You couldn't feel anything except that eerie swelling heat somewhere deep in your chest, vaguely feverish but tense in a way that reminded you a little of sitting crouched much too close to a campfire, the flames just shy of too warm that made your skin feel dry and tight like a sunburn. It filled you, heat and pressure, and you choked on air, struggling to breathe with your face smashed against the floor, your limbs a loose tangle beneath your useless body. Your vision blurred briefly as the faint headache you had noticed earlier intensified into a sudden migraine as flickering scarlet lights blinked into existence around you, casting a soft red glow around the whole room. Through it all, you could hear your heart pounding, a loud rapid thundering that overwhelmed everything else.

And, suddenly, you realized- It wasn't YOUR heart you were hearing.

You could feel your own heart fluttering bird-like in your chest, but the sound that filled your senses was a slow, almost ponderous throbbing, and you couldn't help but whimper as it swelled, bringing with it that terrible heat and growing scarlet light. It felt as though your body were less a thing of flesh and blood and more a tenuous film wrapped around a volatile mass growing in power and strength, uncaring of the trauma it put you through as a result. Something crackled, the sound vaguely reminiscent of both egg shell and Styrofoam being crushed under foot, and abruptly, your whole body felt as though you had been set alight. Pain burned through you like brush-fire through dry forest, and you flailed in place, unable to control your limbs as they jerked and spasmed in sudden agony.

Somehow, you managed to roll yourself onto your back, your head thudding against the hard floor, and your body arched in a taut bow as you voiced a ragged rasping howl that sounded more like some horror movie monstrosity than anything human. Around you, scarlet flames swirled and flickered, casting dancing shadows of your convulsing form against the walls. The multiplied silhouette seized and you unleashed a fresh screech of both fear and pain at seeing as well as feeling your body warp out of the shape you once knew.

Fabric tore as your limbs stretched long and lithe, black glistening armor sprouting sharp insectile spines that shredded the material like a hot knife through butter, and you felt more than heard the crack of your joints popping in and out of place from your frantic uncontrolled flailing twisting your form in unnatural positions. You felt your feet slide out of your boots, the leather flopping to the floor, and the waistband of your trousers went slack as your hips and waist tapered to dimensions better suited to a skeleton than a living being. It was a change that had you feeling nauseous, your insides churning sickly, and you found enough control to roll yourself over onto your side.

Only, instead of emptying your guts on the floor, you choked on air for a brief moment before literal fire burst out of your mouth, scorching the floor and singing off what parts of your shirt hadn't been shredded into ragged strips. You coughed hoarsely, tasting smoke and something vaguely peppery before you were belching another burst of fire, this one managing to catch your trousers a blaze. Feeling weak and woozy, you still tried to put out the scarlet flames, slapping at your knees and thighs. Black segmented armor was revealed with every inch burned away, the softer matte material at your joints no longer completely black but seeming to be glowing soft scarlet like the embers at the depths of a furnace. More spines, shorter but just as sharp, had sprouted along the backs of your elongated calves, and dully you realized that you didn't really have feet anymore. Rather, your legs ended in a tiny segmented pad and a pair of sharp talons.

Perfect for dancing, no matter the stage...

Okay, weird. Not something you would normally consider, but hey, insanity and non-sequitur weirdness seemed to be the theme of the night.

You gave a low, rasping groan, the terrible pain having faded to a dull throbbing ache as you let yourself slump to the floor, your panting breaths wheezing in your sore throat. The other heart, you could hear it so clearly now, its beat as slow and steady as the passage of time itself. If you focused, you could almost imagine that it was speaking to you in the static silence between beats, whispering. Your head felt heavy, your own pulse thumping in weighty beats that made your skull feel a size too small, and you let your eyes fall closed in the hopes that the darkness behind your lids might help with that echoing migraine.

Scarlet fire filled your mind, and you were powerless to escape it, the inexorable pulse of the second heart filling your senses with heat and light. For a moment, you felt eerily weightless, briefly departed from your aching body, and then you were on the floor again. Only, it wasn't any floor that you were familiar with. Instead of the laminated wood of your front room, your talons dug into a rough stitched patchwork of fabric. The dark color almost blended with that of your armored hands, only the sheen allowing you to see the difference, and you realized with a start that what little had remained of your costume had almost entirely been stripped away. Only your ragged cloak and cravat managed to endure, your altered body laid bare beneath.

Black segmented armor covered most of your form, glossy in the low light like obsidian glass, enhancing the inhuman leanness of your limbs and body. Your chest and belly stood out in glistening scarlet, segments overlapping like scales of a dragon, and as you staggered upright, you noticed the color almost matched the silken lining of your somehow still intact cloak.

Red mist swirled around the space, lit by dangling lanterns of scarlet flame, and you wrapped yourself in your cloak with a shiver as you took in your stranger surroundings, half lost in gloom and mist. The slow heart beat, the one not your own, the sound of it surrounded you on all sides...

No.

No, it had a source.

Shoulders tense, your talons gripping your cloak tightly, you turned in a slow, unsteady circle, and felt your eyes go comically wide at what came into view out of the dimness.

A massive, multi-lobed heart hung from the ceiling like a gruesome chandelier, pulsing in time to the slow, inexorable beat that throbbed throughout the eerie space. It was just as much of a patchwork as the rest of the room, like some great and terrible power had torn into the flesh of it to try and rip it out of existence. Yet despite such a battered appearance, it glowed with a mighty energy all its own, filling the room and your mind alike with heat and light.

_...child..._

You jolted in place, very nearly falling back to the floor at the voice that swelled out of the static silence between beats. It was a nightmarish sort of voice, so deep it was almost no sound at all, rumbling and hissing and growling all at once.

_...flame..._

Fear had you shivering in place, fighting to simply keep on your feet as that voice rippled through you, the sheer power of it seeming to make the very air tremble. You could barely breathe, and every part of you wanted nothing more than to flee, but it was as though you had been glued to the floor.

_...ritual..._

"What-?"

You practically choked on your own tongue as your attempted speech prompted what you had thought were deep scars to snap open, revealing themselves to be massive glowing eyes carved into the throbbing flesh of the giant heart. The light and heat around you heightened, and you stumbled back a half step before your legs gave out under you, still weak from the pain you had endured. Your bottom hit hard, and you couldn't help but whimper, huddling into the concealing cover of your ragged cloak.

Nothing made sense, you didn't know what was going on or why, all you wanted was for all this terrible pain and confusion to be some twisted nightmare.

You would wake up, either in your own bed or having dozed off in the armchair by the door where you'd moved it to have a place to rest between trick-or-treaters, and everything would be back to normal-!

The multiple eyes widened, their glow brightening to such an intensity you had to squint and look away, lifting an arm to shade your eyes from the brightness. The light faded away after a moment, leaving you blinking away spots even as you looked up to try and see what was going on.

Only to freeze at seeing-

Well.

You weren't sure.

A tall slender being stood silhouetted against the throbbing heart, staring down at you with blank red eyes rimmed in black. Its face was bone white, vaguely heart shaped, and those eyes- They were massive, almost cartoonishly so, taking up a good third of that pale face with the almond shapes. A deep red cloak hid most of its slim form from your sight, the ragged hem swirling around its calves and the high collar fluttering against its jaw. Crimson horns arched up from its skull, an almost perfect crescent that you couldn't help comparing to drawings you had seen of demons.

Was it a demon? Some kind of evil spirit? Had it been the one to change you? To hurt you?!

With that thought forefront in your mind, you scooted backwards some distance before struggling to get your feet under you, still feeling weak and uncoordinated, but if this thing had done this-!

The being's eyes narrowed suddenly, and you couldn't help but stare when it performed a neat pirouette and simply- Vanished. Turned to nothing but another puff of mist, quickly lost amidst the rest. You managed to stagger to your feet, terror feeding your body the adrenaline you needed to get your rear in gear, and you made to run, maybe find some vague semblance of an exit lost in the mist. Only to let out a startled shriek when you nearly smacked face first into the red being.

You almost tripped over your own feet scrambling to back away from the thing, in fact, you did. But rather than fall unceremoniously back on your butt, the being reached out a black armored hand rattlesnake quick, catching you by the arm to keep you from tumbling. You couldn't help staring, struck dumb with shock.

_...child..._

A somewhat dazed blink, and you glanced from the being to the heart and back, brow furrowing with confusion.

"I'm... I am no child."

It was still weird talking, your voice so deep and raspy you sounded nothing like yourself, and your mouth felt strange with all those sharp fangs. Though it felt like the whole structure had changed, the sharp teeth fitting much more comfortably in your mouth that you recalled.

Still.

Weird.

The being's eyes narrowed, and you got the distinct impression that it was Judging you. You felt the hand on your arm tighten its grip, its own talons biting through the fabric of your cloak to scrape on your armored bicep as it dragged you forward, holding you up even as you stumbled on weakened knees. Without thinking, you hissed your displeasure at being manhandled, and twisted away before the being could haul you around again. Unfortunately, you still weren't fully adjusted to your elongated limbs, and you gave an angry little shriek as you tripped over your own feet and crashed to the ground in a heap.

_...foolish..._

"Screw off! I don't see you dealing with a whole new body and crazy powers! I threw up fire! FIRE!"

The scarlet being just stared, though its eyes narrowed slightly, just enough that it managed to express both boredom and distaste without so much as a word. You scowled, baring your new sharp fangs with a raspy snarl, before you shakily shoved yourself upright. That was starting to get easier to do...

"I don't know who you think you are, SIR-"

_...king..._

"Pardon me?"

Almond shaped eyes narrowed, looking pleased as the scarlet being bent at the waist in a deep, sweeping bow.

_...king..._

"Oh great, no wonder you're such a jerk. Royalty. What are you even king of?"

The being blinked, then you were taking a step back as a hoarse, rasping laugh echoed through the shrouded space, the being baring its own fangs in a thin smile as it straightened. Its red eyes glowed a touch brighter as it stepped closer to you, looming in your space despite the fact you were the same height.

_...Nightmare King..._

You felt your own eyes widen, and shuffled back a half step as the being encroached further on your personal space, releasing its cloak to fall open and reveal a crimson armored belly not dissimilar to your own. However, your attention was focused on its hands, glistening black talons wreathed in scarlet flame not unlike what you had instinctively summoned earlier in the night. Fire blossomed around its delicate feet, the mist in the room shimmering red in the light as the massive heart thundered steadily, its many eyes casting more light into the shrouded space that disoriented your sight.

The so-called Nightmare King abruptly appeared to vanish into mist, and you had a split second to wonder how the hell that even worked before flame coated hands were grabbing you by the head, causing you to realize that apparently you had horns now before you were overwhelmed by a terrible burning sensation that flooded your senses with light and heat. You could hear yourself screaming, a raspy howl of anger and agony, but even as you twisted and thrashed, trying your damnedest to pull away, you felt SOMETHING press into your mind. It was nothing but pain at first, but then there were images, glimpses of other odd beings, strange tents made of stitched hide, music and costumes that you suddenly found oddly familiar. Information flooded into your brain, overwhelming your pain with shock and no small amount of curiosity as the images started to click with names.

A troupe, performers you knew, a musician that preferred the accordion but could play just about anything and almost never spoke, tall stately beasts of burden that guarded the entrance and guided the curious visitor in the same breath, an entertainer that mended some kind of jewelry in the off hours. Lanterns on staffs, filled with scarlet flame, the flames that you had made, that had built inside you and burned with an ancient purpose.

A ritual, a dance, you KNEW that dance-!

Head spinning, you felt the scarlet being -no- the Nightmare King, your mirror, your other self, you remembered, he was the avatar of the God you served, the Heart that beat in you and your kin, that devoured the remnants of kingdoms long fallen and forgotten- he lowered you gently to the ground so you wouldn't come to harm as you sorted through the memories swimming laps inside your skull. Dazed, you stared blankly up into the hazy dimness that made up the farthest upward reaches of the Nightmare Realm in which the Heart rested, the plane where your own subconscious protected the remnants of a Higher Being.

That's right, you were technically inside your own head at the moment, your actual self had passed out on the floor in reality.

Part of you wanted to be entirely unnerved by that realization, but it wasn't that uncommon, really, you wandered your subconscious like this whenever you happened to fall asleep. It was just part and parcel of your role in the intricate, infinite Ritual that strengthened and sustained the Nightmare Heart. True, your initiation into the Troupe was... Odd compared to most, but-

Oh.

The broach. The Charm.

You reached a trembling hand up to your throat, where the broach was still clasped into the fabric of your rather battered cravat. It was warm to the touch, pleasantly so, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you felt the familiar curves of the magical metal, knowing its shape was very similar to your own visage. The previous Ritual had been broken with the loss of the Charm, the Grimmchild torn from its own world and dragged into yours against the will of both its caretaker and the Nightmare Heart. Some force beyond the Veil had reached out and ripped the child away, tried to take it for itself, only to fail when it lost the Charm.

And you found it, entirely by chance. Mended it, cared for it, and you had welcomed its influence.

With the Veil thinned with belief and imagination, the Charm had sought to return the favor, it had wanted to give you a gift...

You delicately unpinned the broach from your cravat, cradling it gently in both hands as you looked upon its changed shape with fresh eyes, and you allowed yourself a soft laugh, finally able to sense the energetic personality within the magic.

_...child..._

"Indeed. And a precocious little one at that."

The Nightmare King nodded his head in agreement, tension eased with the refreshed understanding between you both, and you replaced the broach before slowly moving to sit up. You still felt rather out of sorts, the aches and pains of your physical body echoing into the Nightmare Realm, but you were much calmer now with the knowledge at your disposal explaining much of what had occurred. It was simply bad luck that the transformation had been so painful, the world in which your physical form dwelled currently had so little magic to draw on that the spell simply didn't have enough energy to both change your form AND dull the pain. Briefly paralyzing and numbing parts of your body had been the best it could do, and even then-

_...pain..._

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm going to be in pain still when I return to the conscious world. But it will be worth it."

Even with your reassurance, the Nightmare King looked unsettled, and you sat up straighter, moving to pull your mirror self into a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but soon melted into your embrace and returning it with one of his own, so gentle you almost couldn't feel it.

_...child..._

"I will free the child when I awake, yes. The little one has been cooped up for far too long, and after all-"

You felt a smile spread across your face, mischief brightening your scarlet eyes.

"It is still Halloween."

\- FIN -


End file.
